IPOD Robin Hood
by eleroo02
Summary: A collection of songfics picked out by putting my iTunes on random shuffle. Contains spoilers through the second season finale. Will be 10 in all. COMPLETE
1. It's Delovely

Disclaimer: I don't own Robin Hood.

A/N: Saw a fic where they put their iTunes on shuffle and then wrote fics from the first 10 songs that were picked, so I thought I would try it out. Fingers are crossed these come out ok. Some songs will work out beautifully; some are going to have me pulling out my hair to write. So wish me luck!!!!

First up is "It's De-Lovely" the Robbie Williams version. Thought this would make a nice Will/Djaq. So this is for you **KeepingAmused**, who very much wanted a Will/Djaq.

* * *

_I feel a sudden urge to sing_

_The kind of ditty that invokes the Spring_

_So, control your desire to curse while I crucify the verse_

_This verse you've started seems to me the "Tin Pan-tithesis" of melody_

_So to spare you all the pain, I'll skip the darn thing and sing the refrain_

_Mi-mi-mi-mi, re-re-re-re, do-so-mi-do-la-si_

Will fought down the smile that threatened to explode on his face. Djaq had just asked him to accompany her while she searched for various medicinal herbs in the woods. That guaranteed him a few hours of alone time with the strong Saracen woman who had stolen his heart from the beginning. For the next few hours, she explained the various uses of everything from peppermint to dandelion. Will listened in relative silence, asking the occasional question, yearning for the moments when her eyes would light up in excitement at his interest in the subject. But all too soon, the moon started its journey in the sky and the two were forced to head back to their current camp by the river. Leaning over to pick up a forget-me-not that his keen eye had seen, Will couldn't stop himself from putting it behind her ear. His eyes were not keen enough to see the slight blush that graced her features, but he did hear her delighted laugh and that was enough to send him whistling all the way back to camp, only interrupted by her laughing attempts to join in.

_The night is young, the skies are clear_

_So if you wanna go walkin', dear_

_It's delightful, it's delicious, it's de-lovely_

_I understand the reason why_

_You're sentimental, 'cause so am I_

_It's delightful, it's delicious, it's de-lovely_

Marian and Robin had snuck off into the woods once again. Much had started his usual ranting causing Djaq to look at Will and roll her eyes. He smiled gently at her and went back to whittling the block of wood he held in his hands. Djaq sent her own gentle smile at him, not that he saw it as he was too engrossed in his project. Will was never fully satisfied unless his hands were busy, and Djaq found that absolutely endearing. But as much fun as it was to watch Will's long fingers control the knife Much's voice was beginning to irritate. She shot up from her spot in her bed and told the group that she was going for a walk, maybe to look for some herbs. John looked up and nodded while Much just kept rambling. She shot one last glance at Will before leaving camp, but he didn't even look up. Her heart sank, but she blamed it on nervousness due to their recent bad-luck. No one was quite sure if Allan was going to be keeping the camp's location a secret from the Sheriff, and an abnormal amount of guards had been roaming the forest the past week. Djaq found a few herbs but mostly enjoyed the forest's unique sounds of wind through the leaves and the twitter of the birds. The noises soothed her as she never would have believed coming from a land of sand with few noises in the wilderness. The sound of footsteps crunching on dead leaves alerted her to human presence and Djaq looked around for a good hiding place; only to stop when she recognized the whistling tune of one Will Scarlett.

"Djaq?" he called softly.

An impish smile crossed said girl's face as she snuck around and behind him to scare the young man. Silent as a deer, she snuck up and stretched as much as possible in order to put her hands around Will's eyes. The carpenter took it all in stride as he chuckled and pulled her hands down, their fingers co-mingling not long enough.

"It was getting late. We wanted to make sure you weren't captured."

"Oh, so now you boys think I need an escort. You think I can't protect myself?" She softened her tone, wanting to take some of the sting out of it, but she couldn't hide all of her hurt.

"I just wanted an excuse to walk you back," he responded. "And to give you this."

He held out a small wooden object, which Djaq curiously took. The large grin that lit up her face was mirrored by Will, glad she liked his gift. And as they walked back to camp, arms brushing, the fading sun fell on a tiny, intricately carved forget-me-not.

_You can tell at a glance what a swell night this is for romance_

_You can hear, dear Mother Nature murmuring low "Let yourself go"_

_So please be sweet, my chickadee_

_And when I kiss ya, just say to me_

_"It's delightful, it's delicious, it's delectable, it's delirious,_

_It's dilemma, it's de limit, it's deluxe, it's de-lovely"_

The desert night was cool, and Will appreciated the extra layers of clothes, but it would take him awhile to get used to the robes. There was a serenity at Bassam's place and Will found it to be a balm on his soul. He had never allowed himself to properly grieve his father back in the woods, too many things had happened. There were still peasants to support and plans to foil. But here with the moon twice the size and no trees to mask the starlight Will couldn't stop the reminiscing. And as his thoughts leaped from his parents to Allan to Marian, he felt a tiny hand cover his. Will didn't have to turn around to recognize the touch of his love. It had been a few months since their confessions and Will was still unable to wrap his head around his luck. As she snuggled close to him Will's thoughts were finally silenced as he concentrated on the feel of her lithe body next to his and the scent of jasmine in her hair. Tonight there were no more ghosts to plague his memories. Tonight, it was just him and his love.

_Time marches on and soon it's plain_

_You've won my heart and I lost my brain_

_It's delightful, it's delicious, it's de-lovely_

_Life seems so sweet that we decide_

_It's in the bag to get unified_

_It's delightful, it's delicious, it's de-lovely_

These past few months back home had been much needed for Djaq, but she couldn't deny her nostalgia for England. The desert sands comforted, but seemed wrong for her current life. She was no longer little Saffiya, she was Djaq; a competent physicican and needed logical friend to a group of unruly outcasts in Nottingham. At least she had Will here but even she could tell how much he missed his own home. He had picked up the habit of just rolling his tag between his fingers and staring off into space. He had tried to fit in for her, had even learned some of the language, but had never been fully accepted. He had given up England for her; it was time for her to sacrifice for him, though if she was truly honest, it wasn't much of a sacrifice. Finding him with the pigeons, she snuck up on him as she had in the woods so long ago. He turned around before she could reach him and greeted her with a soft smile and gentle kiss on the lips. Staring into eyes she could never get enough of, she found another surge of bravery

"Marry me, Will Scarlett."

He just paused and opened his mouth a few times, no words coming out.

"I'm getting nervous here, Will."

"Yes." He breathed, scooping her up and whirling her around the room. They both laughed in giddy relief and happiness as they sealed the proposal with a kiss that seared across Djaq's lips.

"One condition though," she managed to get out between his kisses. At that he stilled, pulling back slightly to examine her face. "We get married at home, in England."

"As you wish, my love." And then all talking ceased as the two melted into one another.

_See the crowd in that church_

_See the proud parson plopped on his perch_

_Get the sweet beat of that organ sealing our doom_

_Here goes the groom – boom!_

_How they cheer and how they smile_

_As we go galloping down the aisle_

_It's divine, dear, it's de-vene, dear, it's de-wunderbar, it's de-victory_

_It's de-velop, it's de-vinner, it's de-voix, it's de-lovely_

"I still can't believe she pipped you to the post, mate."

"Shut up, Allan," Will groaned at his best man. The wedding day had finally arrived. All of their friends were gathered around in the forest, as King Richard had not returned home yet. Robin winked at the nervous Will as they awaited the bride. She had chosen Little John to escort her up to the altar that Much waited at the right of, being her other witness. Luke and Allan were witnesses for Will, and he was starting to regret that decision. In Will's absence, Luke had joined the group and had taken Allan as a role model. If ever there was regret in Will's life, it was that relationship between his brother and best mate. Trying to tune out their good-natured and slightly raunchy ribbing, Will bounced on his heels ready to get the ceremony over with.

He heard Allan's indrawn gasp and looked over to see a beaming Little John escorting Djaq towards them. She had a wreath of flowers on her head, which Will was happy to see contained some forget-me-nots, and wore the white dress Bassam had gifted her before they left. He had been understanding and had wanted to see England himself, but had been unable to go as the fight was coming back to Acre. But he had blessed them and they had promised they would meet up again. Looking around at his friends, no, his family, Will had never felt happier. The woman of his dreams was officially his, he was home, and they had a lifetime awaiting them.

_The night is tired and so we take_

_The few hours off to eat wedding cake_

_It's delightful, it's delicious, it's de-lovely_

_It feels so fine to be a bride_

_And how's the groom while he's slightly fried_

_It's divineful, it's delicious, it's de-lovely_

The ale had been poured and laughter echoed through the glen as Robin swung Djaq around in an impromptu dance. Will was watching off to the side as Much chattered about the going-ons during his absence and Allan kept refilling the young man's cup. Djaq came over, having escaped Robin, and frowned slightly to see the slight swaying of her husband.

"Allan A Dale," she scolded. The cheeky poacher just shrugged unapologetically and quaffed his remaining ale in one before grabbing her hand and whirling her around, much as Robin had done earlier. Any sort of displeasure fled in the frenzied dance and the singular knowledge that she was married to her handsome, strong carpenter at long last.

_To the pop of champagne off we hop in our plush little plane_

_Till a bright light through the darkness cosily calls Niagara Falls_

_Well, my love, our day's complete_

_What a beautiful bridal suite_

_It's de-reamy, it's de-rousy, it's de-reverie, it's de-rhapsodie_

_It's de-regal, it's de-royal, it's de-ritz, it's de-lovely_

_We settle down as man and wife_

_To solve the riddle called married life_

_It's delightful, it's delicious, it's de-lovely_

**A/N: The next song up is "Save the Last Dance" which I think will be a Robin/Marian. I will be updating these fics when I get the chance to, so no guarantees on how quickly that will happen. And don't forget to vote on my poll for the next big "Robin Hood" story. You can find it in my profile. Thanks and please review :) **


	2. Save the Last Dance

Disclaimer: I don't own Robin Hood.

A/N: After such a great response from the last one, I tried to get this out quickly; so it is short but sweet. It has helped that I've been home with the flu and didn't have much else to do, so no saying how quickly the rest will be coming out. Hope y'all enjoy and keep the reviews coming!!!

This is to "Save the Last Dance," by Michael Buble.

* * *

_Well you can dance _

_Every dance with the guy _

_Who gives you the eye _

_Let him hold you tight _

_And you can smile _

_Every smile for the man _

_Who held your hand _

_'Neath the pale moonlight _

_But don't forget who's taking you home _

_And in whose arms you're gonna be _

_So darling, save the last dance for me _

Marian let out a tired sigh. The night was still young and she was already exhausted. For some odd reason Sheriff Vaisey had decided last minute to hold a masquerade ball. She looked over towards his throne to see him hiding behind a hawk mask adorned with black feathers. The bird of prey looking out amongst the scampering rabbits and Marian could not hold back her slight shiver. Whatever he was up to tonight, Marian was fairly certain it was meant to be a trap for Robin. And knowing that hare-brained former noble, he was sure to show up tonight. She hid her worry behind a carefully crafted smile as once again some noble approached her to dance; she guessed she would just have to save Robin from himself once more.

_Oh I know _

_That the music's fine _

_Like sparkling wine _

_Go and have your fun _

_Laugh and sing _

_But while we're apart _

_Don't give your heart _

_To anyone _

_And don't forget who's taking you home _

_And in whose arms you're gonna be _

_So darling, save the last dance for me _

Robin snuck through the crowd, confident that no one would recognize him in the stylish fox mask Will had created. He had left the other outlaws the risky task of securing the tax money; he had his own special plan tonight. He had not seen Marian in weeks, and it looked like his precious butterfly needed rescuing from a tall man in a black mask that Robin supposed was a wolf. _Not Gisbourne again_, Robin moaned to himself. What was with that guy and wolves? He guessed he would just have to go and rescue her again.

_Baby, don't you know I love you so _

_Can't you feel it when we touch _

_I will never, never let you go _

_I love you, oh so much _

_You can dance _

_Go and carry on _

_Till the night is gone _

_And it's time to go _

_If he asks _

_If you're all alone _

_Can he walk you home _

_You must tell him no _

_Cause don't forget who's taking you home _

_And in whose arms you're gonna be _

_Save the last dance for me _

As Robin got closer, he could hear Marian let out a giggle over her goblet of wine as the predatory wolf leaned close. Fighting down the sudden rage that boiled up, he caught her eye and lifted his mask briefly. He couldn't stop the smile as she rolled her eyes in exasperation at his temerity. He wasn't worried about being caught though; the dance floor was crowded and he was Robin Hood. Passing Marian and Guy of Gisbourne, Robin slipped a note into Marian's hand and melted back into the crowd, already missing the feel of their hands brushing together. He also missed the piercing look Guy was shooting at the back of his head, and the quiet insistence of Marian that Sir Guy dance with her now.

_Oh I know _

_That the music's fine _

_Like sparkling wine _

_Go and have your fun _

_Laugh and sing _

_But while we're apart _

_Don't give your heart _

_To anyone _

_And don't forget who's taking you home _

_And in whose arms you're gonna be _

_So darling, save the last dance for me _

Marian breathed in the night air with relief. The night was almost over, and judging by the cloud of anger that hovered over the Sheriff and Guy, their plans to capture Robin and the gang had not succeeded. And speaking of the cocky outlaw, Marian looked around to locate him. His message had been vague, simply saying for her to meet him outside the main door close to midnight. Well here she was and not a fox in sight. She stared at the stars as the music started to wind down behind her. Hearing the musicians call the last dance, she felt her senses tingle as arms engulfed her from behind.

"You came," Robin whispered in her ear.

"Of course I came. Now what did you want?" She questioned, trying to make her voice brusque to hide the excitement she really felt.

"I want the last dance, milady," he answered, sweeping around to the front and taking her in his arms for the waltz the orchestra was playing.

"It's yours, always," Marian managed before their lips met and the stars kept their vigil over the secret lovers below.

_So don't forget who's taking you home _

_Or in whose arms you're gonna be _

_So darling save the last dance for me _

_Oh baby, won't you save the last dance for me _

_Ooh, you make a promise _

_That you'll save the last dance for me _

_Save the last dance _

_The very last dance _

_For me_

* * *

A/N: And don't forget about the poll on my profile!! 


	3. Shankill Butchers

Disclaimer: I don't own Robin Hood or much of anything really.

A/N: This was such a hard song!!!! So I decided to approach it as "Shankill Butchers" being a childhood song and the effect it has on various people, with Much as the center. Still not sure if I'm entirely happy with the finished result, but I hope you enjoy!!! The rating for this story went up for this song and some of the images in the story. Quick reminder that these songs were chosen randomly, so it's sort of a make do with what I have to work with.

I'll admit I'm a little insecure about this one, so please review and let me know your thoughts!!!!!!

Once again, the song is an odd little folkish song called "Shankill Butchers" ,by the Decemberists.

* * *

_The Shankill Butchers ride tonight_

_You better shut your windows tight_

_They're sharpening their cleavers and their knives_

_And taking all their whiskey by the pint_

_'Cause everybody knows_

_If you don't mind your mother's words_

_A wicked wind will blow_

_Your ribbons from your curls_

_Everybody moan, everybody shake_

_The Shankill Butchers want to catch you awake _

In the village of Locksley, Much the miller's son lay crouched under some blankets as his mother finished a truly horrifying tale. Big blue eyes were inordinately wider as he fisted his hand in his mouth to hold back the soundless shrieks. The story of the _Shankill_ _Butchers_ was one of his mother's absolute favorites to tell and it frightened her imaginative son into complete obedience. If Much had forgotten to do his chores, those choice words would have him scurrying around in a manner of minutes.

But the miller's wife had to admit, it was a rare event for Much to not do what he was told. Her son was a people pleaser who adored having any sort of responsibility, even if it was only to help his mother with the washing. The Lord of Locksley himself had shown interest in her conscientious son as a probable playmate to his son, Robin. The boys were close in age and the Lord was looking for someone to calm down the excitable young lord and Much appeared a perfect fit. Her only son was to leave their home and join the Locksley manor staff next week, and she would miss her little sparrow. But as he nestled closer to her under the blankets, she reassured the child with a gentle kiss to the forehead and herself with some logical thoughts. The boy would be leaving for a better life and the best she could do for him was to impart her own wisdom and lessons to aid him in his life's journey.

_They used to be just like me and you_

_The used to be sweet little boys_

_But something went horribly askew_

_Now killing is their only source of joy_

_'Cause everybody knows_

_If you don't mind your mother's words_

_A wicked wind will blow_

_Your ribbons from your curls_

_Everybody moan, everybody shake_

_The Shankill Butchers want to catch you awake_

Much finished the last solemn lines of the _Shankill Butchers_ and waited to hear Robin's opinion. It was telling of how bad the injury was that Robin was even allowing him to sing. Tense moments passed in silence before Robin turned to his long-time friend.

"And that's one of your strongest memories?"

"Yes," Much responded. "My mother loved that song. It had been sung to her by her mother and so on. It's an odd song, and scared me as a child I can tell you, but it soothes me now. Strange, innit?"

"Now killing is their only sense of joy," Robin repeated. A silence fell over the pair as the words tumbled around their troubled minds. The two soldiers were lost in memories of blood and locusts as Much searched for the appropriate reassurances.

"Have we become the Shankill Butchers?" Robin finally asked.

"Never us, master." Much answered. "Surely you don't think that!"

"It was somewhat glorious at the beginning, wasn't it?" Robin continued, lost in his own world. "War to make us men, to bring glory to England and for King Richard; now, I'm just tired. There's death everywhere, Much. Why can't we stop it?" The tears started to flow in earnest down the Lord of Locksley's face. Much scooted closer to his best friend and the contact seemed to calm down Robin.

"Well then it's a good thing we're going home as soon as you're recovered, master. And then it'll be a lifetime of relaxation in beautiful Locksley village. And this war will be naught but a distant memory."

"I guess the innocent dreams of little boys really don't last forever, but do you think the nightmares will go away?"

"They have to, right?"

_The Shankill Butchers on the rise_

_They're waiting 'til the dead of night_

_They're picking at their fingers with their knives_

_And wiping off their cleavers on their thighs_

_'Cause everybody knows_

_If you don't mind your mother's words_

_A wicked wind will blow_

_Your ribbons from your curls_

_Everybody moan, everybody shake_

_The Shankill Butchers want to catch you_

_The Shankill Butchers want to cut you_

_The Shankill Butchers want to catch you awake_

_Another month, another night spent in the picturesque dungeons of Nottingham Castle,_Much muttered. It was becoming a bad habit and caused Much to once again question his sanity, or rather the sanity of their fearless leader who had become even more fanatical of late. _Just who plans to get caught on purpose?_ But the mutterings were brought to a halt when a visitor stopped in front of the cell, and not the one Much was hoping for.

"Ah, it's a beautiful morning, no?"

"My mouth is shut. Torture me as much as you want, you will hear nothing out of me," Much bravely declared.

"Well, that's a first. Maybe I have been a good boy this year after all." The sheriff said dryly. "It seems fate has thrown us together again my lord of Bonchurch, and just in time for the Festival of Pain to make a comeback."

"You Shankill Butcher," was the muttered reply.

"That just may be the nicest thing anyone has ever said to me." The sheriff sniffed, putting his hand over his heart. "And you sir, have a nice………hat."

"You know that song?" Much couldn't help but ask.

"The Shankill Butchers want to catch you. The Shankill Butchers want to cut you. The Shankill Butchers want to catch you awake," the Sheriff sang while conducting the song to the sullen prisoners around him. "It was a childhood favorite of mine."

"What a surprise."

"A clue? No. But then again, you were aiming for sarcastic I would assume, hum, yes, well it's been a laugh but this pesky torturing requires planning. I need something special for your master. Will he be rescuing you tonight or tomorrow morning? Everything needs to be perfect; I do so hate to keep the public waiting for their entertainment."

As the sheriff walked down the torch-lit hallway humming the all so familiar tune, Much couldn't stop the groan that was muffled when his head found his hands. From his mother he had learned the importance of perseverance; from Robin, the ability to make a half a plan somehow succeed. He was going to need both of those lessons now; the Sheriff be damned if he thought Much the miller's son was caught.

* * *

A/N Don't forget the poll!!! I'm going to be closing it soon, so now is your chance if you really want to see a certain story. The next song is "Redwings" by the Guillemots, so I'm thinking a Will/Allan. Stay tuned!! 


	4. Redwings

Disclaimer: Own Robin Hood? Who, dear? Me, dear? Oh no, dear.

A/N: Wanted to get this up before I left on vacation, and it wouldn't leave me alone. So instead of cleaning like I should be, I had to write this. Again, some struggling with the inner pain but I tried to get in touch with my inner outlaw, and hopefully it came out okay. I love these two together and I hope I did their relationship some justice.

Thanks to everyone who has reviewed, you have no idea how happy it makes me.

The song is "Redwings" by the Guillemots.

* * *

_**This is where we fall from the trees **_

_**This is where the sky covers up **_

_**Daft killers of joy, you made a man out of me**_

His best friend was gone. Allan A Dale, trickster, poacher, and general merry man of their band of outlaws had betrayed them, had betrayed Will. Surreal was the best way to describe the past few hours, and Will struggled to make sense of all that had happened. Much had spoke of a betrayer in their midst, and like most, his thoughts had turned to Allan, if not simply for the reason that he had never seemed as invested in the group's purpose, but rather tended to treat it as a challenging game. But he had never truly thought that Allan would have betrayed the group so thoroughly, so long. Right was right; truth was truth; and a friend was a friend in Will's ordered world and he thought others believed the same. But Allan had shoved all those beliefs into a ditch, and Will was left pawing through the discards to figure out his comrade; _former comrade,_ he reminded himself. Will admired the older outlaw and had relied on Allan for guidance and companionship. Memories of his abrupt departure from the group with Allan all those months ago were resurrected, and Will knew that only a brother could have convinced him to do that. And now that brother had gone the way of Dan and Jane Scarlett, leaving Will alone again. If this was the world of an adult, Will was tired of being a man.

_**And this is where the glass leaves the lens **_

_**Splintering a chemistry of friends **_

_**I'll treasure you always**_

The streets were oddly crowded for nighttime, filled with beggars and guards making their rounds. An old man Allan had gifted with money a few days past recognized him and hurried up to he hooded man to find out about the next drop time. As the elderly gentlemen launched into a story about a neighbor whose husband was in the dungeons, Allan handed the man the few coins left on him. Ignoring the man's thanks, Allan continued down the street, shedding his hood as he went. It was no longer necessary to hide while in town he realized. No one would care about another peasant, and that's all he was now without a tag around his neck. Never had an empty space seemed so heavy, and as Allan reached up to touch his tag-free neck, he couldn't hold back the surge of anger towards Robin. _Robin could have listened, could have forgave me, but he chose not to. He was always on about how life is always a choice, and _they_ chose to be rid of me. _With the tiny voice in the back of his head (the one he consistently ignored) chiding him about his word usage, Allan admitted that he had just thrown away the only friends he had ever had. Never mind that the confrontation that had just taken place a few hours ago was between him and Robin, he knew the other outlaws would side with the leader. He had betrayed them just as much as he had Robin. But being Allan, he couldn't help arguing with his conscious. _Maybe they'll talk Robin around, Will won't let me down. He's the best mate a guy could have. We'll be sitting around the camp joking about this in a week while Djaq fusses over any possible lingering injuries._ But the hopeful pep talk left only an empty feeling as Allan realized he needed to stop lying to himself. Dreams weren't practical and wouldn't put food in his belly; he had to survive, first and foremost. Maybe Will saw the world in only two colors, but Allan was used to living in shades of grey; he might as well try black.

_**You know I love you**_

As the falling star streaked across the night sky, the man watching made just as frenzied a wish. _ Remember our friendship._

_**And this is where we wake in the ditch **_

_**This is where our bodies sing no more **_

_**Fallen apples on the floor, pecked at by redwings**_

The gang was a sullen bunch these days and Will found himself escaping the confines of the camp more and more. He was occasionally joined by Djaq who reminisced with him as they bantered back and forth various follies of their cheeky friend. The lithe Saracen healer also had an innate talent in knowing when to be quiet as they roamed the forest with no destination in their heads. Robin had all but ordered his gang to never mention Allan; an edict Little John approved and took to heart. Kind-hearted Much knew how much the youngest two missed the now leather-clad man, but he always became so nervous about breaking Robin's command that his conversations tended to be babbled caution mixed with indignant comments about the man he had never been that close with.

Today Will was alone and not even the arrows he was working on soothed him. The rest of the group was managing the day in their own ways; the majority finding solace away from the camp, Will included. The carpenter was a solitary soul by nature and it was a rare person who managed to navigate through the barriers he never realized were erect. Allan had barged through with tenacity more akin to a wild boar than a simple human. Silence and solitude, while still precious, was now wrong somehow and without Djaq's quiet companionship, Will was at a loss. With a grunt and a sure movement of the hands, the axe of Will Scarlett found itself lodged in the oak tree across the clearing where once he had fought the Sheriff's men while Marian had lain sheltered in the cave near death.

_Happy birthday, Allan._

_**So pour another whisky out for me **_

_**It'll be the last bottle we share **_

_**As I drift into nowhere**_

"Here's your ale, sir," the busty barmaid purred reaching around the drunken Allan to place his drink on the table before him. Allan patted his knees for her to sit, but felt none of his usual joy when she obliged. Even Gizzy had noticed something was wrong with the usual jester and had cornered his new sidekick in the castle, but Allan had begged off with his usual dramatics and run off to the Trip for some serious forgetting. It was considerate of Guy to ask after him, and while the two were coming to an understanding, Allan knew the role of best friend would always be held by a certain sulky brunette. If Allan closed his eyes a certain way, the tall man on the other side of the room morphed into a green-eyed carpenter frowning at the copious amounts of alcohol imbibed. Allan knew though that before long though, he would have coaxed him into a few sips which would lead to an inebriated Will, also known as the talkative, clumsy Will, and the two would swap stories until one or the other passed out in a drunken haze.

But Allan opened his eyes and all too soon the imaginary Will was again a soldier of the Sheriff's causing his cheeky smile to fade away as he roughly pushed the blonde off his lap and threw the coins on the table. Allan's nose wrinkled as she ignored his muttered goodbye to scoop up the coins. He knew she relied on that money, but the desperation was slightly off-putting. His generous tipping was one reason why Allan was so popular at the Trip, but at this moment Allan just wanted to be surrounded by people who respected him for him, not his money or position of power. _Guess that leaves me to myself _was the bitter thought, _happy birthday to you_.

_**Know that I loved you**_

As the fog drifted in over the town, a man remembered a similar day when he and his best mate had gotten lost in the woods on their way to the camp. _We were friends once, weren't we?_

_**But love was not enough to hold my grip **_

_**Can't you just feel my fingers slip **_

_**Into those oceans in the sky where people swim **_

_**Oceans in the sky calling me in **_

_**Oceans in the sky I tell myself **_

_**Though I'm not kidding anybody else **_

_**They know I'm leaving **_

_**They know that I'm leaving this behind**_

It had been a day to end all days, and Allan couldn't stop the quick but sincere prayer of thanks he sent skyward as sweat dripped in his eyes. The town and its people were safe, though judging by the Sheriff's angry screams, they might not be happy for the next few weeks. Allan would bet anyone that the Sheriff would somehow turn this near disaster into a moneymaking scheme but only a fool would take him on those odds. As much as he was repulsed, part of him couldn't help but give a nod of appreciation at the sheer genius of the Sheriff when it came to plotting new taxes. As another string of inventive cursing rang out over the square, Allan determined it a fine time to hide away from the castle for a few hours. Guy would be in a mood when Allan finally showed up, but Allan figured his thoughts more important than the sting from a few slaps. His mind was still in a jumble from his earlier meeting with Will, and Allan wanted to go somewhere quiet to analyze what had been said. So engrossed in his thoughts, he never saw the tall, hooded shadow in between two buildings.

"Allan," Will hissed as he bit his mouth to hide amusement at Allan's double-take.

"I would have thought you back in Sherwood already. Is everything a'right?" the former outlaw questioned as he approached. When Allan was nervous his accent thickened and Will was almost grateful that he still possessed this quirk, maybe not everything changed.

"Everything is fine. Robin went back to camp but I wanted to talk to you first."

"And he actually let you stay, eh?"

"I didn't ask for permission."

Allan couldn't help but feel a bit touched, "I'm not being funny mate, but this could get you in a bit of trouble with the boss. "

"I don't care about that right now."

"So why did you want to talk now? I get the feeling this isn't a dinner invitation."

"You hurt me, Allan."

"I know, and I tried to explain…"

"Stop, we have gone over all that already. You always have your excuses and until you face the truth and accept your mistakes you will never be a part of the gang."

"So that was your purpose of this little chat, to ground me further into the dirt? Well, if that's it, I have errands to run."

Allan turned to leave but was stopped by a firm hand on his shoulder. "I wasn't finished."

With a snort of disbelief, Allan turned around to face his friend, dreading to hear the scorn he knew would fall from those lips again.

"What I said back there was true. We were brothers in arms again today, and I look forward to the day that will be the complete truth. We were, are, still friends and when you find your path back, I will be there waiting. But do know that we will not assist you while you lead this life you have chosen and if you do end up hurting any one of us, especially Djaq, this friendship will truly be over."

"Understood," Allan replied softly. For the third time that day he left Will behind, but as he headed back into town, he realized that this time, Will's goodbye wasn't forever. When Allan finally figured out who he was and what he wanted, he had Will awaiting his return. He had hope.

_**So I'm leaving my best friend **_

_**Just for the hell of it **_

_**Just for the sake of it **_

_**But how much I loved you**_

* * *

_**My name is eleroo, and I'm addicted to reviews, and using !!!!!!! in my author notes. Next song up is "Time of No Reply" by Nick Drake. **_

_**Maybe I should also mention that I don't own Catherine Tate, I just try to use her sketches in my own sad comedic ways for the disclaimer. **_


	5. Time of No Reply

Disclaimer: I don't own Robin Hood.

A/N: I'm back!! Here is the next installment, an ode to our favorite outlaws. It starts and ends with Robin, and shows the beginning and end of the group. The song is "Time of No Reply" by Nick Drake. Hope you enjoy, and cheers to all of you who have reviewed. You always make my day :D

* * *

_**Summer was gone and the heat died down**_

_**And Autumn reached for her golden crown**_

_**I looked behind as I heard a sigh**_

_**But this was the time of no reply.**_

After hours of lecturing Much about his demoralizing complaints, Robin's keen ears were still able to pick up on the nearly-silent sigh that escaped his loyal friend's lips. Days had passed since the Sheriff had branded them outlaws, and they were still in Sherwood Forest with autumn bringing in the colder weather. Clothing was scarce and though he tried to keep a brave face in front of his boys, for they were his responsibility now, Robin couldn't help the fear that crept up on him of being able to survive the winter. They were supposed to help the poor but how could they help others if they couldn't help themselves?

His internal musings were interrupted by a grunt and a thump as John Little dropped a deer on the ground in front of the fire where huddled the rest of the ragtag group. Robin went to join them as John pulled out a knife to prepare the doe and Roy boasted about how hard she had been to hunt down. As the story became more and more elaborate, Allan and Roy started to trade absurd stories about their hunting prowess as Will listened with a small smile on his face while whittling a spit for the deer to roast upon. Robin put his hand on Much's shoulder in an attempt to calm his former manservant as insinuations of the man's hunting ability were bandied about between the two rogues. With a twinkle in blue eyes as the deer was put on the fire, Robin began to think that maybe they _could_ make this life work. Sure the winter was coming, but they were becoming a group finally; a group who could survive anything.

_**The sun went down and the crowd went home**_

_**I was left by the roadside all alone**_

_**I turned to speak as they went by**_

_**But this was the time of no reply.**_

_This sir, is a robbery_, was declared with much gusto by a man with a multi-colored jumper behind and to the right of a glowering man who hulked above the rest of the group. The cloth merchant, who was currently at a loss as to why the six men brandishing various weapons were so wordy and oddly polite, decided it best to listen to the instructions that were given him and stepped off to the side to let the hoodlums raid his wares. One man, a blond, raised his knobbed rod-like weapon taunting the merchant with a smile and rude word as he roughly escorted the man further from the group. Not wanting to be nuisance, after all he quite liked being alive, the merchant watched the young men root through the cart with smiles and crows of glee from the brown haired lad with the bow slung over the shoulder as he wrapped a scarf around a tall brunette with an axe. Looking more like errant children than outlaws the cloth merchant couldn't help feeling a bit miffed that the sheriff was unable to capture such obviously inept villains. Soon enough, the outlaws allowed the merchant back to his significantly lighter cart and parted from his company with a jaunty goodbye from the long-nosed one.

"Not being funny, but you have the honor of being the first victim of Robin Hood and his band of outlaws. Be assured the villagers will appreciate your contributions."

Before the merchant could reply, the group disappeared into the thick cover of the woods leaving behind the bewildered clothier and his horse. Sharing a snort, the two continued on their way, more aware of the forest around them. Nottingham wasn't far, and waiting for them would be a glass of wine and a Sheriff who would see that those outlaws would get their comeuppance for stealing the Sheriff's new ermine robe.

_**The time of no reply is calling me to stay**_

_**There is no hello and no goodbye**_

_**To leave there is no way.**_

_**The trees on the hill had nothing to say**_

_**They would keep their dreams till another day**_

_**So they stood and thought and wondered why**_

_**For this was the time of no reply.**_

The day was a gloomy one, filled with a mist-like rain that would not let up on the denizens of Sherwood Forest. The men were getting antsy and tired of being cooped up in the camp but Robin had forbid his gang from going into town much less leaving the camp. They had come close to being captured the day before and Robin was advising caution. He did, however, allow Djaq respite from this imposed captivity. So with a spring in her step and a nod of apology to the men she was leaving behind cooped up, she left their hidden abode and set out into the woods for prayer.

Facing west, Djaq dropped down in front of an ancient oak tree, glad for the small protection offered. The forest had scared Djaq at first, who was used to open sky and blazing heat playing off of sand. The massive trees and gnarled roots that sought to trip her up had her out of her element for a time. But now, she found herself welcoming their shade and the easy availability of various medicinal herbs and roots. She wasn't entirely sure when this tree-covered land had become home, but she knew deep in her soul that she loved the forest as she loved the desert. They were representative of the two sides of her, and if the sand was Saffiya, then the trees were Djaq; strong and secretive.

Finishing up her prayers, Djaq dusted herself off and headed back to camp only to be waylaid by voices to her left. Following the familiar laughter she found Will Scarlett and Allan A'Dale play-wrestling by the creek. A loud clearing of her throat and the two looked up at her, guilt evident on their faces.

"What are you doing out of camp?" she asked, smirking at the muddy boys.

"Looking for firewood," came one quiet answer.

"Relieving myself," came the other, cheeky and unashamed of any rudeness the one woman of the group might find in that statement.

With a simple eye-roll, Djaq perched herself on a nearby convenient rock enjoying the view as two of her boys continued their mock tussle. Only moments later, a quick rustling alerted the three to another presence. Muscles tensed only to be relaxed when Much rushed into the clearing.

"Oh, I thought I heard voices," he muttered.

"Robin let you out as well?" Allan asked in disbelief.

"He was staring at the fire, so I thought he wouldn't mind if I nipped out for a bit to find some herbs for dinner tonight."

"You mean, he doesn't know you left," Will replied with a smile.

"I'm sure he does," Much replied huffily. "Besides, didn't you leave for firewood an hour ago? And as for you Allan, who would believe it would take you this long to, well you know," he said looking hesitantly at Djaq.

"I had a lot of ale last night," Allan shot back loftily. Turning his back to Much, the A'Dale cuffed the back of Will's head starting the fight again as Much joined Djaq on the rock, watching the two friends exchange blows and headlocks.

Little John found this strange foursome as dusk approached, this time with Allan and Much wrestling about as a sweaty Will perched next to Djaq. "Robin sent me out to look for you lot."

Four guilty smiles met his eyes, and with a sigh, John leaned against one of the trees and informed them, "And I guess he could wait a little longer. I get winner of this match."

Cheers met this statement and as Djaq settled more comfortably on the rock, she couldn't help but to gaze fondly at the woods surrounding her. This was indeed a fine home for their little family.

_**Time goes by from year to year**_

_**And no one asks why I am standing here**_

_**But I have my answer as I look to the sky**_

_**This is the time of no reply.**_

A gnarled hand caressed a similarly gnarled tree as still nimble fingers traced unrecognizable patterns in the wood. Years had done much to both the tree and the man, but they were still standing and the bond the man had forged with the forest was still strong. Memories made his fingers dance as the man began to walk an unseen path, hands darting out to feel the trees around him, to feel the life that still pulsed in Sherwood. It had been more years than Robin cared to remember, and the dashing outlaw had become an old man. Passing some of the village's children playing a game of Outlaw, Robin's imagination changed their faces until soon he saw before him his old friends.

But they were gone, and soon so would he; all that would be left of their disparate group would be stories that he hoped would do his friends justice. Would future generations know of Much's loyalty, John's strength, Will's passion, Djaq's heart, and Allan's cleverness? Would Marian's willfulness and his own love of England be remembered? Robin could only hope, but for now, he still had these trees and a full day to spend among them with his memories for company. _We are Robin Hood_.

_**The time of no reply is calling me to stay**_

_**Theres no hello and no goodbye**_

_**To leave there is no way.**_

* * *

A/N: Next up is "Unwritten Letter #1" by Vienna Teng. Also, a quick favor. I have one song coming up that I think I will make into a Carter, but I'm trying to remember information about him. So if anyone can tell me some facts, such as if they ever name his brother, I would much appreciate it!


	6. Unwritten Letter 1

Disclaimer: You know how it goes, I don't own anything, especially not Robin Hood.

A/N: Hey folks, I decided to repost this with the two parts back to one. Although its long, I do like it better not split, and its giving me some wasted time until I can figure out how to proceed with the next chapter. Thanks to all of you have kept up with the story and reviewed, your comments are appreciated and help me figure out where to go with the story as well as judge how my writing is going.

* * *

**_Nightfall we're brushing past your town  
Destination not you my one  
The driver doesn't know way down  
How deep these bright-eyed feelings run  
I've no intention of confessing today  
I need to make distance a while  
But miles don't make your image fade  
They don't erase this secret smile_**

"Apple?"

Robin merely shrugged off his manservant's offer, choosing instead to look out the window of the carriage. They were on their way to Portsmouth, where they would catch a ship to join the King's army in Acre; to the Holy Land. Robin had been afforded the honor of serving in the King's private guard and though excited to finally prove his worth as a man, Robin couldn't help the homesickness he already felt at leaving behind Locksley and the beautiful Marian of Knighton Hall who had been in his dreams nightly for the past year. They had been childhood friends who had become best friends who had become sweethearts. The past year had been full of stolen moments under the willow tree by the lake, hands clasped during walks in the woods. Their fathers smiled indulgently whilst making sure they had a chaperone in the form of Matilda or even Much.

But within the past few weeks Marian had become withdrawn and it seemed like anything Robin did angered her. The bruise over his ribcage was proof enough of her volatile temper, and her right-hook. When he had complained to Matilda, she had simply smiled and said the girl would come around if Robin just gave her time to deal with his news. Much simply thought the whole thing ridiculous and tried to cheer his master up with singing (what he thought was the cure-all for anything). With another sigh, Robin sulkily sat back in the carriage watching Locksley fade into the distance.

But his sullen mood was soon jarred by the sound of hoof beats and talking amongst the guards. Robin figured there wasn't much of a threat since the guards were chuckling, but stuck his head out the window to see what was going on anyways. A smile sprang to his lips as he took in the sight of his girl atop her father's horse. Leaping out of the carriage, the young Lord of Locksley called a halt and went to help Marian off her horse. Much, rolling his eyes, also left the carriage and lounged against the side of it, finishing off the apple, keeping the two within view. Marian, eyes looking everywhere but Robin, hurried up to Much and put a package in his hand. With a crow of delight coming from his friend, Robin figured it was probably some sort of food. Sure enough, Robin rejoined them just in time to see Much's favorite pastries wrapped up in a large handkerchief. Wishing him luck, she placed a small kiss on Much's cheek, generating a blush and stammer of thanks and well-wishes. With one look at Robin and another at Marian, he made his excuses and left the two alone, for the first time in months.

"Missed me already?" Robin asked.

Marian merely shrugged and looked at the ground.

"Marian, is everything all right?" he tried, stretching his arms out to hug her.

Slapping his arms away, Marian finally looked up, fire in her eyes. "No, I'm not bloody all right. You're leaving me, Robin of Locksley. You're leaving me to go and get your stupid self killed in a stupid war."

Robin, alarmed at the sight of the lone tear Marian shed (for she never cried, she was the toughest person he knew), fought past her halfhearted pushes to envelop her in a big hug. "I'll be back in England in one or two years, and then we can be married. We'll have two sons and three daughters, and live happily ever after."

"Happily ever after?" she asked, voice muffled in his shirt.

"Happily ever after," he promised. "Just like in those stories you love."

With a resolute nod and a quick wipe of her hand across her eyes, Marian drew herself up to her full height. "I'll hold you to that promise, two years and nothing more. As for all those children, if you honestly think me just a brood mare…."

Her sentence was unable to be finished as Robin swooped in and his mouth found hers. Her body molding once more into his, the two clung to each other tightly. They stayed this way until a gentle cough from one of the guards reminded them where they were. With a furious blush the two sprung apart and Marian made as if to run. Grabbing her arm, Robin looked her in the eyes.

"I will come back for you."

"And I will be waiting."

With a smile and quick kiss on the cheek, Marian shoved something in Robin's hand and mounted the waiting horse. The two galloped off in the direction of Knighton Hall, not looking back once. But if she had, she would have seen a madly grinning Robin holding aloft her favorite green scarf.

**_Everything reminds me  
Wet grey gold-lit streets  
Shop displays near-lovers meet  
I feel the grasp of your hand still  
This your face now in the glass  
Breathing whisper what is this  
Bent so close we nearly kiss  
Although we never will_**

Will leaned against the market stall, straw in mouth, as he accompanied his mother to market day. He made sure he had an advantageous position of the baker's stall so he could admire Rosa, the eldest daughter. She was a year older than Will, and blessed with tan skin, dirty blonde hair and blue-green eyes that Will agonized over. They had exchanged only simple pleasantries on previous market days, but Will burned for more. He had never been good with words, and his tongue became even more wooden around Rosa. And so Will resigned himself to love from afar, content to just watch.

His viewing pleasure was interrupted by his mother calling him, Luke now by her side. His little brother was dirty and sweaty but still had enough energy to excitedly tell his mother about the game they had invented in the woods, and how his shooting was improving and one day he would be as good as Robin. Will couldn't help the snort that escaped at the arrogance of that last comment, causing Luke to send a positively withering glance at Will. The latter simply smiled and cuffed Luke on the back of his head. Luke grinned back causing Will to worry at the glint in his brother's eyes.

"Mom, can I get a currant teacake?" Luke asked, employing full use of his wide, expressive eyes.

Jane sighed and looked at her youngest. Times were becoming more difficult, might as well let them have their treats while she could still afford them. With a gentle smile, Jane pulled out some pennies and handed them to Luke. "Make sure you get some for your brother and father too."

Luke nodded and ran off towards the baker's stall where Rosa was finishing up with Marian, the Sheriff's daughter. Marian gave a smile to the youngest Scarlett boy as she walked away with her basket full of pastries. Will nodded a hello as he passed more sedately, calm on the outside but quaking with fear and embarrassment inside. Who know what his brother had planned; the little imp loved causing Will humiliation.

Far too soon for Will's liking, his brother bounded up to Rosa and put in his order for various teacakes. The beautiful young woman bundled them up and passed them to Luke with a smile. "Aren't you a handsome boy? There's an extra currant one in the bundle, but don't tell anyone. We don't want people thinking I'm a sap for cuteness. Thanks for your business and hopefully we'll see you next market day."

Luke gave his biggest grin back. "I might not be back, but my big brother probably will. You've seen him before more than likely; he's at every market day. Normally staring at you, apparently he thinks you're very pretty. I heard him say your name in his sleep the other night. He's the tall, lanky guy, name is …"

Will, mortified, ran up to his brother and threw his arm over his shoulder and began to drag him backwards. "Ignore my cousin, he's been ill, and I think I can still feel some fever lingering. Have a good day, miss."

"You too, Will," the blonde angel smiled. "And you might want to let up on your little brother; he appears to be having trouble breathing."

Will, in shock, did just that as Luke bent over laughing. Will angrily pushed him back to their mother, who was looking on in amusement, and refused to look back at the blushing girl. It would be months before he got up the courage to accompany his mother to market day, and when he did, he was still unable to look Rosa in the eyes. Her flirtatious smiles and hesitant touches went unnoticed, and in a few years she married the blacksmith. Will, heartbroken but smiling at her wedding, cheered with the rest of the guests. Maybe she hadn't been meant for him, he thought, as the couple bid goodnight to the guests; maybe he would one day stumble across his true love in an unexpected place.

_**Strange that there's no hurtful need  
Used to be my only sign  
On my mind would make me bleed  
Why is it that I'm feeling fine  
Why is it this warmth within  
No candlelight that causes burn  
Memories of you begin  
Well welcome friends  
Glad you've returned** _

The trip back from the Holy Land had been trying, and John couldn't help feeling some solace as they found shelter under the ancient trees of Sherwood Forest. This was home now, and coming back brought feelings of hope. He had become a changed man in these woods, taking up a cloak of justice for the surrounding villagers; for his family and friends. But the change had brought sacrifices as well. It had cost him new friends in the form of Roy and now Marian, as well as Alice and their son. But if the forest had taught him anything, it was to believe in hope. They had lost Allan temporarily, but the forest had lured him back to their group, and although John was still playing the unwary uncle, he was glad to his soul of his friend's return; and knew that Will and Djaq wouldn't be far behind.

But he was never prepared for the few days after their return, when Robin came to camp with the first smile on his face since the Holy Land, biding John to head outside. He had done so, confused but willing, and had nearly burst into tears at the sight before him. There stood Alice, arm around John, both with smiles on their faces and arms open for a hello. John let out a giant roar, sweeping up both of them in his arms at once, feeling complete for the first time in months. His son, John, let out a loud laugh, hugging back just as strong. Alice giggled that cute giggle of hers, content to just rest her forehead against his.

Putting them down, several minutes were spent just gazing in disbelief; his family had come here for him. _Just leave it to the forest for miracles_, he thought. Alice was the first to break the silence. "John wanted to see you. I…we, figured it was time to make amends; to forgive. He wants to know his father."

"Whatever you want son, whatever you want to know." John half sobbed. And as his son eagerly threw question after question at John, he answered back just as eagerly, thinking in the back of his mind that this was the most he had spoke in years. It was best the gang wasn't there; he would never hear the end of the teasing, even from Will. But as the question and answer session progressed, John's eyes couldn't stop straying to Alice's face. Her blue eyes projected melancholy; a bitter half smile lurking on her face, marring her beauty into one of infinitesimal sadness. As the hours wound down, so did little Little John, and eventually he was put to rest on John Sr.'s bunk, being told bedtime stories by an eager Much.

Alone with Alice, John discovered his recently found verbosity disappeared with the sun. The two walked through the woods in silence, finding comfort enough in each other and the occasional brushing of arms. It was Alice who broke the silence first; she had always been the one who lead the way in their relationship. "Do you remember that All Hallows Eve when we entered the forest to look for spirits?"

"You were so scared then," John reminisced. "I held your hand for courage. Never mind that doing that used all the courage I had."

"That's when I knew you were the one," she admitted, voice barely above a whisper. "I thought you so brave. I thought if you were by my side, I would never fear anything. You would protect me."

"Forgive me, Alice," John finally broke down completely, as he had that night months ago when a horde of mercenaries waited outside for him and his friends.

Alice drew him close, rubbing his head and making soothing sounds as she would when she was comforting her son. John, head nestled with Alice's, realized that the romance was no longer there. Her arms, though familiar and comfortable, no longer felt like his place in the world. He still loved her, and always would, but he knew he no longer belonged there. And as the tears flowed and her arms stayed strong around him, John Little finally let some of his grief and anger flow out of him as well.

_**Everything reminds me  
Music surging bedroom dance  
Crazy spinning sultry glance  
I inhale your presence still  
These your arms of daring grace  
Encircle me, what pact is made  
Desire is your masquerade  
Want me you never will** _

Allan grinned drunkenly as he quaffed down more of the stolen ale. His brother, Tom, and a few of the other village boys had grand plans in store for the evening, and the night was still young. It was the Spring Festival and the girls were out in their finest with flowers in their hair and Allan couldn't think of a finer night. He and the other boys sat on the hillside watching the dancing couples, boasting and lewd comments abundant. Allan's eyes were caught by the buxom raven-haired beauty known as Mae. The two had been exchanging flirtatious banter for weeks now, and Allan hoped his hard work would pay off tonight. With a wide smile and a slap to the back of Tom's back, Allan finished the jug and set off down the hill. Weaving in and out of couples in various states of celebration, Allan straightened his tunic and ran his hands through his hair, liking it with a bit of spike. Putting on his best smile, he sauntered through the crowd of girls locating the tall daughter of the local midwife.

"Not being funny, but you are the most beautiful woman here tonight," he said, deep as his voice could manage. He admirably didn't blush when all the surrounding girls giggled, concentrating instead on the sparkling brown eyes that studied him.

With a quick wink to her friends, Mae grabbed Allan's arm and together the two walked away from the crowd. She kept up a constant chatter, relieving Allan from having to do much besides nod and ask the occasional question. He was grateful for her talk, because he realized he had never been so nervous before. Why not particularly brave, he was normally able to adapt to any situation; but this was beyond him. For beyond all the boasting between the boys, Allan truly didn't have much experience with girls. There had been the occasional kiss and quick fumble behind his father's smithy, but nothing further, and Allan never liked being left behind.

They soon left the village behind, with Mae once again in the lead, pulling Allan seductively under the branches of a willow tree. Allan pulled her into a kiss before they were fully under, making it hard for Allan to tell the difference between the leaves and her hair. Eyes closed tight, she pushed him against the trunk, running her hands over his chest. Laughing, she took a hold of his chin, "Open your eyes, A'Dale. I want you to see this."

With those words, blue eyes opened to see laces being loosened and shafts of moonlight falling on Mae's now bare body. With a grin and appreciative low whistle, Allan pulled her back into him, letting instincts take over. And with the energy of youth, the two kept the owl's company, rising with the dawn. Quiet but with a newfound confidence, Allan waited to hear praise about his night's performance.

"Thanks. That was nice."

"What?" Allan asked, befuddled.

"I'm glad I choose you last night. You were a good time, especially for such a young boy. Some girl is going to be lucky." She ended with a chaste kiss on the cheek.

"What about you?"

"Oh, Allan. And now I'm remembering why I usually go for someone older. I only wanted one thing from you last night A'Dale, and now the night is over, and we go our separate ways."

"When do you want to meet up for this again?" he asked, not really comprehending.

"Maybe it would be best if we don't," she said softly. "Maybe it would just be best if you forget me."

"Because_ you'll_ forget me soon enough? Is that why?" he asked, voice breaking with hurt and anger.

"Yes," she said unrepentant. "You'll understand one day."

And with those final words, Allan's first lover walked away, not once looking back at the confused boy still sitting on the forest floor. He followed her around the next few days, desperate for an answer, but the looks of pity from her and her friends became too much for his ego and his heart to bear. And so he bid goodbye to Mae, and fixated on the other girls in the village, certain he could find someone whom he could please, someone who would want him.

_**You gave me truth  
I chose illusion  
Now we are used to this confusion  
But I know  
Yes I know  
This story has to end  
Never groped for a connection  
Never hoped for more affection  
For I know  
I know I am your friend  
Only your friend** _

Hell had finally come for him. It beckoned with her smile and the laughter he could hear around the corner. It lay hidden in her perfume that he could smell as he walked by her old chamber. Marian was waiting for him, waiting to escort him to the future he deserved. Nightly, the scene would replay. Her taunting confession, the expression of utter shock when the sword marred the white with red; these stood out vividly in his mind. He had loved her, and she had used him. But as angry and hurt as he was, he still loved her, still needed her in his life.

_It's Robin's fault_, Guy thought. It was Robin who had brought her death, not him. She had been misguided, her generosity and spirit manipulated by that outlaw. Somehow Robin had managed to taint his pure angel, Guy's one chance of redemption.

That redemption was gone now; buried under a hot sun and dry sand, out of his reach for the reset of eternity. Guy knew he could never return; could never lay flowers at her grave. Though he knew it wouldn't have been done, Guy couldn't help hoping that someone had brought her body back to England. She was made of green forests and sudden thunderstorms not dry heat. She should have been buried next to Edward, her father who she had loved so much.

It was with those thoughts that Guy finally fell into slumber, recalling only half-conversations and a dark-haired woman riding a beautiful white mare through the castle gates. When he awoke, he snuck out of the castle before the Sheriff could find him, feet leading him to the destination he had decided upon last night. At Edward's grave, Guy was surprised to find some peace, and set about the task of weeding the tiny plot, laying down the daisies he had picked that morning.

"They were your daughter's favorite," he murmured to the ground. "I figure you would appreciate that. I'm so sorry, Edward. I'm sorry I let your little girl die."

A few lone tears traced down his agonized face, falling upon the small bundle of daises. Guy closed his eyes and felt the wind caress his face, yearning for it to be Marian's hand. And if he listened closely, he could almost hear her voice on the wind whispering in his ear,_ Redeem._

* * *

And the next song to come up is "Only the Good Die Young" by Billy Joel. It's going to be a Carter fic!


	7. The Boxer

A/N: I know I said a Carter story would be up next, but it's just not happening. I'm still working on it, but I wanted to get something out for all of you, so I thought I'd head on to the next song, which is "The Boxer" by Simon and Garfunkel. I think it is the perfect song for Allan A'Dale, and though I'm not completely happy with how he story turned out, I'm just trying to work through my writer's block so I'm going to go ahead and post it. So please review and let me know what you think. I did change a few words in the lyrics to make it match up with the time period. Enjoy!

* * *

Allan, remembering the events that had happened at the Sheriff's last party, cast an experienced eye around the room. There wasn't a Fool in sight, and the Sheriff was looking to be in a fine mood. Allan sighed in relief, only a few hours more and than maybe he could make his escape to the woods. Guy thought it was the tavern that Allan escaped to, and Allan was perfectly fine with that assumption. He shuddered to think how Guy would react if he knew his newest second in command still considered Sherwood his home.

Allan winked at the serving girl and picked the mug out of her hand. With a jaunty wave to the Sheriff's table, he saluted Vaysey and Guy and settled himself down on a window ledge to listen to the minstrel. Armed with a small lute, the minstrel started picking a tune and as the first words left the man's mouth, there wasn't near enough ale in the world to get rid of the bad taste in Allan's mouth or to appease the knot in his stomach.

**I am just a poor boy**

**Though my story's seldom told**

**I have squandered my resistance**

**For a pocketful of mumbles**

**Such are promises**

**All lies and jests**

**Still a man hears what he wants to hear**

**And disregards the rest**

Every man wonders how his story will one day be told, and right in front of him, was his. Allan wanted nothing more than to get up and run away, run away to his woods, but he could not. He could feel Guy's eyes on him and knew that to pass this unsaid test, he would have to stay. This once poor boy had the hope of a steady future ahead of him now, and though it had been paved with betrayal, it was all he had. He had sacrificed his ragtag family for this chance, he couldn't ruin it now. He had made his decision, Robin had banned him, and there was no going back.

**When I left my home and my family**

**I was no more than a boy**

**In the company of strangers**

**In the quiet of the forest ditches**

**Running scared**

**Laying low, seeking out the poorer quarters**

**Where the ragged people go**

**Looking for the places only they would know**

Allan felt his mind shifting through memories forcibly pushed back into the recesses daily. He recalled the stabbing emptiness of hunger; the quiet voice of his father telling him and his brother Tom that they would have to leave home and find their own way of survival; he remembered the feeling of panic when he woke that one morning to find his lone companion of that past year, his brother, gone with all of their meager possessions. Allan had truly been on his own then, only fourteen years old, and without his thieving partner to help him find food or shelter.

That was when Allan had found his truest self, the part of him that knew how to survive. He learned how to smooth talk widows into giving him shelter for the night and how to con drunken men out of their last bit of money. He learned how to shoot a bow better than most men, and could take down a hare from 50 paces away. The drifter had even joined a gang of outlaws at one point early on, helping them with a con at a small monastery. But as he always did, Allan A'Dale drifted away from any sort of stability or hope of settling down- being alone was the best of way of surviving. No sharing, no betrayal, no complications.

**Asking only workman's wages**

**I come looking for a job**

**But I get no offers**

**Just a come-on from the whores at the local tavern**

**I do declare, there were times when I was so lonesome**

**I took some comfort there**

There had even been a point before he found Robin, where he had tried to become an honest man. He had become sick of his life, and wondered if he could try an honest day's work, if he could become the sort of man he secretly admired. But it had not gone over well. The business of being a Thatcher, a Blacksmith, or even a Butcher did not work out for him. The few money made were spent on ale and whores, until Allan figured it was time to move on; time to find some excitement, some sort of purpose beyond back-breaking work.

**Then I'm laying out my winter clothes**

**And wishing I was gone**

**Going home**

**Where the Nottingham City winters aren't bleeding me,**

**Leading me, going home.**

He remembered the days leading up to meeting Robin in the forest. He had found himself in Sherwood, in the dead of winter, cold and hungry, and most of all, angry with his life. He was proud he had survived, but what had he survived for? And then the soldiers had come, had finally caught Allan, and he had felt panic. His was not a proud life, but it was his. But then a savior had come in the form of Robin Hood, who had saved him a second time as well from hanging.

Somehow Allan A'Dale, never known for his luck, had escaped death twice in two days, and he had that man to think. So when he and the young Will Scarlett had entered the woods with the now outlawed Lord, it was a newly found sense of debt and honor that had him helping Robin. And when the time came that he could leave, Allan stayed. He was still to this day unable to pinpoint why. Perhaps it had been that he now had a purpose in life, or perhaps simply that Allan had found an adventure that challenged him. But whatever the reason, Allan found himself with a new family, with people he admired and respected. It was a frightening prospect, and as much as he loved his scruffy, unorganized family of outlaws, he knew that life would willingly hand him over to the grimy hands of poverty and hunger once his new life was over. Thus his instinct and survival urges took over once more, leading him away from this gang to a much deadlier one at the castle.

**In the clearing stands a boxer**

**And a fighter by his trade**

**And he carries the reminders**

**Of every glove that laid him down**

**Or cut him till he cried out**

**In his anger and his shame**

**"I am leaving, I am leaving"**

**But the fighter still remains.**

So lost in his memories and self-loathing, Allan almost missed the last verse, but the strains of redemption and hope made their way into his ears and Allan looked up to see the minstrel looking at him, as well as a disguised Much eating at the food table behind the singer. Looking around the rest of the room as the song finished, Allan could make out Robin leading Marian away from the others and could see the tip of John's staff outside the window. Unable to see Will or Djaq, but knowing they were probably there as well, Allan whistled the last verse under his breath, knowing now would probably be a good time to escape the manor. He didn't like his old friends seeing him like this, and he definitely didn't want to be around to deal with Guy or the Sheriff after the fallout.

_And maybe, just maybe I am a Boxer_, he thought to himself. And he wasn't going down without a fight. He would make amends with his friends and he would finally become someone he could respect.

* * *

Well, what did you think? Hopefully, the Carter one really will be next. Thanks for reading!


	8. Only the Good Die Young

A/N: Well, here is the Carter fic!! I'm still not entirely happy with it, especially the ending, but figured it was time to get this out. I attempted to write in 1st person (which is probably why I'm so unsure), so I would appreciate any feedback. This is for CrimsonRose456 who so very much wanted the Carter fic and who I kept waiting...hope it was worth the wait!

The song is "Only the Good Die Young" by Billy Joel.

* * *

_**Come out, Virginia. Don't let me wait.**_

_**You Catholic girls start much too late,**_

_**Oh, but sooner or later, it comes down to fate.**_

_**I might as well be the one.**_

_**Well, they showed you a statue, told you to pray.**_

_**They built you a temple and locked you away,**_

_**Oh, but they never told you the price that you pay**_

_**For things that you might have done.**_

_**Only the good die young.**_

_**That's what I said**_

_**Only the good, die young**_

_**Only the good die young**_

I can see the nun's mouth moving but the words drift past with the breeze coming through the window. I'd been in class for hours now, and the sun was beckoning us outside. I'd been at the convent for almost two years now, and had decided that learning was not for me. I missed the feel of grass under my feet in the classroom, and couldn't help the day dreams of being a warrior in service of the King. My brother, David, on the other hand, loves the classroom and is Sister Mary's favorite student. More often than not, I have to coax him to play as he prefers being in the small library. The rest of our class consists of Jared, a small quiet boy who only laughs or cries, but never speaks actual words. There is also Stephen, the troublemaker of the group who was the bane of all the nuns at the convent. I still smile every time I think of his last prank and the sight of the furious Sister Margaret as she chased after Stephen, her sodden habit hampering her speed. Lastly, is feisty little Virginia, our adopted sister, who will one day become a real Sister. She likes to boss us boys around, but we let her get away with it as she does have a decent punch.

As the words "Carter" ring out, I look away from the window to see Sister Mary looming in front of my face.

"Sister Mary," I say, the words coming out solemnly. I hear Stephen sniggering behind me and fight to keep the smile off my face.

I can see the Sister's lips purse up in annoyance, but her voice came out calm and measured. "Carter, we are talking about Sacrifice. I'd like you to tell me some examples of Sacrifice you might encounter in your everyday life."

"You mean like stayin' in class instead of being outside to play all the time?" I ask.

"Well, that would be a sacrifice to you I suppose, but how about something more profound?"

"Giving up some of your food to a sick neighbor even though you don't have much," I hear my brother speaking up.

"Very good, David," beams Sister Mary. "Carter, I still want an answer from you, but tomorrow will do. It is a lovely day outside for the first time in awhile, so why don't you all go and play."

The words were barely out her mouth when Ginny, Stephen, and I were out of our chairs, running for freedom. The sun was shining through the branches and the laughter that had been threatening all day finally erupted.

_**You might've heard I run with a dangerous crowd.**_

_**We ain't too pretty. We ain't too proud.**_

_**We might be laughing a bit too loud,**_

_**Oh, but that never hurt no one.**_

_**So come on, Virginia, show me a sign,**_

_**Send up a signal. I'll throw you a line.**_

_**The stained-glass curtain you're hiding behind**_

_**Never lets in the sun,**_

_**Darlin' only the good die young**_

_**Whoo whoo whoo whoo whoo**_

_**I tell ya, only the good die young**_

_**Only the good die young**_

_I wonder what they will think_. My brother and I left the convent years ago and this will be my first visit since that summer. And in those years I still have yet to learn patience, and can't help feeling that my old teachers are still taking perverse pleasure in their little tests. Finally, a woman approaches, a large smile on her face, and I'm taken aback when the nun gives me a large hug.

"Carter!" she exclaims. "Is your brother with you? How are you? It's about time you came to visit, I thought you had forgotten all about me!"

It took a few minutes but when the recognition came, I couldn't stop the crushing hug I returned upon her. "Ginny!"

"It is Sister Constance, nowadays," she gently chides me, looping her arm through mine.

"Is that allowed?" I have to ask.

"The other sisters will forgive me. They all remember you, and somehow time has made them now think fondly of you. I think they may have switched you and David in their minds."

"That's good news for me, not so much for David though. It's a good thing he's not here."

"I suppose, but it would be nice to see him again. Do you think he can come and visit soon?"

I know she can sense the hesitation, but growing up has gifted her with patience, or perhaps it is the habit. "He probably won't, Virginia. We are heading to the Holy Land in a few days, along with Stephen if you can remember him."

"Yes," she says softly. "I can see you have become the soldier you always dreamt of being." A gentle finger traces the outlines of my tunic and I can only stop and stare at my former adopted sister as she continues, in her own little world now.

"So you go off to play war like you did when you were six, only this time it really is war, and you're dragging David with you."

"I'm not dragging him! He volunteered to come with me, and I'm going to look out for him. Besides, we both know how hopeless he is without me."

I look over to see her reaction but look away when I see she isn't smiling at my feeble joke.

"Just make sure you three take care of yourselves and each other. It was hard enough losing Jared all those years ago."

"You know we will. Nothing is going to break our gang apart, Ginny. And when the three of us get back, we'll visit you, I promise."

"I'll hold you to your word, Carter," she responds, lightly hitting me against the arm.

"Good," is all I can say, and with a quick look around to make sure no one is watching, I pull her into a close hug and sneak in a quick kiss on her cheek and a wipe of the small tear threatening to fall.

"No crying now, Gin-gin."

"I'm not crying, Carter, I'm laughing at the thought of you on a ship for months, all cooped up. You just can't tell because you're looking at the wrong side of my face." She sniffed. "Goodbye, Carter."

"Goodbye, Virginia."

_**You got a nice white dress and a party on your confirmation.**_

_**You got a brand new soul**_

_**Mmmmm, and a cross of gold,**_

_**But, Virginia, they didn't give you quite enough information.**_

_**You didn't count on me**_

_**When you were counting on your rosary.**_

_**Oh oh ooh**_

_**They say there's a heaven for those who will wait.**_

_**Some say it's better but I say it ain't.**_

_**I'd rather laugh with the sinners than cry with the saints.**_

_**The sinners are much more fun,**_

_**Ya know that only the good die young**_

_**Ho ho ho baby**_

_**I tell ya, only the good die young**_

_**Only the good die young**_

The way to the convent is familiar even after all these years, and it gives me time to turn the journey over to my feet and free my mind. It's been three years since I visited Virginia and it's time to bring her the news of Stephen and David. She will be saddened by the thought of Stephen's desertion and my loss of contact with him, but how will she cope with the news of David? She had been in love with him for years, and now I was going to show up and tell her that he was dead; that she would no longer see his shy smile. Would I have the strength to tell her that he had loved her too? I can still remember his confession on the ship, and his regret that he had not been able to see her before he left. I can still hear Stephen's teasing and see my brother's annoyed face.

But Stephen's teasing ended only a few months later when the troop awoke to find Stephen had disappeared in the night, leaving behind his few possessions. The brothers had missed their friend but secretly hoped they would never see him again. For if they did, they would be honor-bound to capture him and Stephen would end up imprisoned for his treason. War had taken Stephen's sanity as well as my innocence, but it had taken David's life.

The head injury had not looked bad at first, and any fear for my brother's life vanished; he was stronger than any head wound. But the days continued and he worsened until he fell into a sleep from which he could not waken. I had sat by helpless, making false promises and empty speeches to both him and myself. At one point, I had even shouted _God will never take you away from me_ when his eyes had closed and his breathing slowed. His eyes had opened right away and his voice, weakened from the injury, had found enough strength to boom in laughter throughout the tent. I had laughed with him and then watched weakly as the laughter turned into tears. I was silent, unable to find the words of comfort; could only hold his hand as he cried through his fear and anger. He had been embarrassed and had tried to pass the incident off with the simple words of _I'm not crying, I'm laughing on the wrong side of my face. _It had been his favorite phrase ever since I had told him Virginia's words, and something of an inside joke between us three orphans. Now, I guess those words define him, after all, they were his last words.

It has been over a year now and the ache, though faded, remains. Robin of Locksley helped those weeks ago, and I know seeing Ginny again will be another balm to my soul. With the help of the two of them, maybe I can find my purpose in life again. And when I return to King Richard's side, I can be that soldier of justice I have always dreamed of being. I will fight for England, for Robin and Nottingham, for my brother and Stephen.

The convent lies ahead and I quicken my pace eager to see my childhood friend and home. And it truly is a homecoming as Sister Mary greets me, older and more wrinkled, but with the same steady step and gentle smile.

"Sister Mary!" I greet her warmly, forgetting any form of manners she once taught me, and picking her up in a swinging hug.

She surprisingly allows me, even clutching me near her for a brief second. "Welcome home, Carter," she says, smoothing down her habit. "Are David and Stephen with you?"

I had thought myself ready for this question, but the tears still come to my eyes and I can only shake my head. But that is enough for her, and Sister Mary bows her head and says a silent prayer for her two former students. "Is Virginia, I mean Sister Constance, here? She should…" I take a few deep breaths and finish the sentence, "she should know."

"I'm sorry, Carter." is her simple response. And the tears flow again. "How?" is all I can manage, but Sister Mary understands and gently leads me to a bench, one hand clasped tightly in mine.

"She became ill around a year and a half ago, with consumption. There was nothing we could do, but she went with God in her sleep, brave and at peace. We miss her; she lived a full life and impacted many people."

"It doesn't matter, Sister, what she did. She still died too young, just like David. Why? Why does God create these people, and then take them away from us so soon?"

"It is not for us to question Him, Carter. They were put here for our benefit, so we could learn from them, just as others will learn from you. Everyone is important, their lives meaningful; no matter how long they lived. You will always remember the names of David and Virginia, and through you, others will learn of them as well. And years from now, people will have heard of the soldier named Carter; of his love for his friends, of his sacrifices for his country, and they too will mourn a good man and ask why. And you will be looking down from Heaven, next to David, next to all of them; and you will make the sun shine extra bright that day so kids can play outdoors and Life will be cherished as it should."

_**You say your mother told you all that I could give you was a reputation.**_

_**Ohh,she never cared for me,**_

_**Did she ever say a prayer for me?**_

_**Oh oh ohh**_

_**Come out, come out, come out Virginia Don't let me wait.**_

_**You Catholic girls start much too late,**_

_**But sooner or later, it comes down to fate.**_

_**I might as well be the one**_

_**Ya know that only the good die young**_

_**Tell ya baby**_

_**Ya know that only the good die young**_

_**Only the good die young**_

* * *

I'm a review addict...please support this and review!


	9. Somebody Told Me

A/N: Well, it's almost the end…. And I thought I would give Guy a try to show you what he's made of. It started off as a Guy/Marian, and while it's still there, it is more focused on Guy himself… especially the second half. The song is _"Somebody Told Me" _by The Killers. Enjoy and reviews are always appreciated!!

* * *

_Breaking my back just to know your name _

_Seventeen tracks and I've had it with this game _

_I'm breaking my back just to know your name _

_But heaven ain't close in a place like this _

_Anything goes but don't blink, you might miss _

_Cause heaven ain't close in a place like this _

_I said heaven ain't close in a place like this _

_Bring it back down, bring it back down tonight _

_Never thought I'd let a rumor ruin my moonlight _

_Somebody told me you had a boyfriend _

_Who looked like a girlfriend _

_That I had in February of last year _

_It's not confidential, and I've got potential_

Sir Guy of Gisborne looked around the homey walls of Locksley manor and gave a grunt of satisfaction. His new home was fine, and if Guy played this right, his position in the world was sure to rise. The Sheriff of Nottingham was a dangerous guy, it was easy to see; but Guy knew he could handle him, he could handle anything. And nothing was going to stop him from getting what he deserved from life. Not his new servants (who were eyeing him warily still), and certainly not the former Earl of Huntingdon, who would more than likely die over in the Holy Land. As to the servants, they would learn to appreciate him; they were his now and he vowed to do right by those who trusted in him.

His new steward interrupted his musings with a slight cough, "Sir Edward and his daughter Marian are here to see you, sir."

"Very well," Guy nodded. "I will see them in here."

The steward bowed smartly before leaving the room. Guy remained at his place near the window, watching the goings-on of Locksley village. He heard the shuffling of feet into the room and waited a few moments before turning around. He was finally in a position of authority; it was something to be relished.

But as he turned towards the two visitors, it was not Sir Edward who first caught his eye; rather it was the stunning brunette young woman by his side. She met his gaze calmly and a small smile escaped the perfect lips that Guy's eyes couldn't stop tracing in his mind.

"Sir Guy," she said in a melodic voice, dipping into a small curtsy.

"Milady," Guy responded, crossing over to press a chaste kiss to her hand. He heard Sir Edward clear his throat and looked over at the old man.

"We should talk, Sir Guy. Marian, could you give us some time?"

"Of course, Father." Marian replied, bowing once more on her way out the door.

"Maybe I should send a servant with her to show her around the place. So that she does not become bored," Guy said absently, his mind still on her beguiling smile.

"No worry for that, she practically grew up in this home. She knows it very well indeed."

"Is that so?" Guy asked.

"Yes," Edward replied. "My daughter was friends with Robin of Locksley, and it might do her some good to spend some time here reminiscing. I know he has only been gone for two years, but she does miss him even though she prefers to act otherwise. But I suppose that is the way of all women, they think they must hide all actions of affection as so not to appear eager."

"Yes, I suppose you are right," Guy answered softly, some of the hope in his heart lost. Of course a woman as beautiful as her would be taken. But then again, Robin of Locksley was far away, and who knew how long he would be gone. Until then, Guy would just have to show Marian the qualities he possessed towards being a good husband. "Now what did you need to discuss with me, Sir Edward?"

_Ready, let's roll onto something new _

_Taking its toll and I'm leaving without you _

_Cause heaven ain't close in a place like this _

_I said heaven ain't close in a place like this _

_Bring it back down, bring it back down tonight _

_Never thought I'd let a rumor ruin my moonlight_

The day had come. The Sheriff was gone, Guy was in an unholy alliance with his greatest rival, and the town that had become his home was about to be razed to the ground. But then again, his fate was not necessarily tied into that of Nottingham's. He had been granted permission to leave, to have his life spared from Prince John's army. But could he leave it behind? Leave behind his men; leave behind Allan, his cheeky second-in-command who had somehow managed to worm his way into Guy's heart? Leave behind Marian, the woman who held his heart in her delicate if fickle hands?

"Allan!" Guy yelled, knowing the former thief wouldn't be far off.

"You called?" Allan asked, with only a trace of his usual cheer.

"Are you ok?" Guy asked hesitantly.

Allan looked at him in shock, blue eyes widening to almost comic proportions and Guy couldn't help the smirk at his reaction.

"I'm always ok. Even when death approaches with torches blazing, and me, with only a life half lived."

"That's why we're going to fight. I need you to grab some of the guards and reinforce the gates seeing as how it appears Locksley is going to fail us. Also, stop by the armory and see about getting the villagers some weapons. They might not be trained warriors, but any man will fight for that which is dear to him. Can you do that?"

"Of course, sir. Where will you be if I need you for something?"

"I need a word with Marian; she should know some things… none of which is your business. Get going!"

"Yes, Sir Guy. See you in hell… or maybe the Trip."

Guy nodded at him, feeling a pang at the thought of losing him; in truth, pain at the thought of losing Nottingham, of his life here. His whole life, he had been lost in shadows. And then Marian, his personal sun, had brought light into his life, and Guy wasn't sure he could go back to living completely alone. He would ask for her hand, and if she didn't agree, he would still not leave her to her death. For without her in his life, his world would be naught but ash.

_Well somebody told me you had a boyfriend _

_Who looked like a girlfriend _

_That I had in February of last year _

_It's not confidential, and I've got potential _

_Rushing, rushing around _

_Pace yourself for me (for me)_

_I said maybe, baby please _

_But I just don't know now (maybe, baby)_

_When all I wanna do is try_

_Well somebody told me you had a boyfriend _

_Who looked like a girlfriend _

_That I had in February of last year _

_It's not confidential, and I've got potential _

_Rushing, rushing around_

* * *

Hope you enjoyed the penultimate fic. The last song will be by Under the Influence of Giants, and once again, feature that lovely, brooding man...Guy of Gisborne.


	10. Against All Odds

A/N: Well, it's the end... it might have taken a long time to finally get here, but it's done! Thank you so much to everyone who has kept with this and reviewed. The final installment is about Guy dealing with Marian's death to the tune of "Against All Odds". Enjoy!

* * *

**Denial**: The desert had been dry, making the salt air almost unbearable to Guy of Gisborne as he stared across the calm water. Both places allowed their own certain freedoms, but he was currently unable to accept the freedom of sea life as his heart was still chained to the sands of the Holy Land, to Lady Marian. He had lost his head, and he had done the unthinkable. He had hurt his beloved.

She would come back to the castle with Hood's gang, and stare at him with her lovely green eyes. There would be betrayal and hurt, but also that odd understanding that she had always had when it came to him. She would steal from the Sheriff, taunt Guy even more and then leave him behind to run back to the woods with her lover. But there was no one to blame but him; he had finally truly driven her away. She would be with Hood forever now; he was the one she had chosen in the desert sun. She had chosen her fate.

He may have wounded her, but the Saracen physician would heal her. Marian had done far worse; she had killed his heart, his soul. But maybe in a few months time, when tempers on both sides were quieted, she will decide to stop by the castle just to see him, and she will forgive him for the physical wounds he had inflicted during the battle. She will forgive him for everything.

_You're fool's gold_

_We all know_

_So I'll cry_

_And try_

_(Why did you have to mess around?)_

_So spare me_

_My lady_

'_Cause I've come_

_To hide_

_(Why did you have to…)_

_I'm_

_Against all odds_

_I can't stop loving you, no_

_Did you say I'm_

_Against all odds_

'_Cause I can't stop loving you, no_

_Oh_

**Anger**: The whiskey burned as it flowed down Guy's throat, but it wasn't enough. He could still think, he could still feel. Guy gulped down the remainder of the drink, willing a quicker trip to oblivion; a darkness he welcomed, so that he could forget about light and sand and blood and blue-green eyes. Eyes that had laughed at him, eyes that had cried before him, eyes of which he knew every detail; the same eyes that had ultimately betrayed him.

He had confided in her; he had gifted her with his loyalty, his love. And what had been her response? She had laughed at him, chosen his enemy, and betrayed everything that had been between them. She had brought on her own death with a casualness that still irritated Guy. How dare she have been so indifferent, so blithe to his pain? Now she was dead, apt punishment for her treatment of him, Guy thought. _Now she's gone for good, so should my memories be, burned away like the whiskey._

_My sparrow_

_The arrow_

_At the time_

_Sing it again_

_(Why did you have to mess around?)_

_This thin rope_

_With no hope_

_My farewell to those who say_

_(Why did you have to…)_

**Bargain**: "I'm thinking of having it turned into a storage room for my boots, what do you think, Gisborne?" The Sheriff asked.

"Huh?"

"Pay attention, Guy! Your mind has been positively missing these past few months. I was talking about Lady Marian's old room, she doesn't need it anymore now that she's dead. It would make a fine closet don't you think? Or perhaps we could turn it into a treasure vault for the money we are getting from the peasants."

"Whatever you like, sir" Gisborne responded through gritted teeth.

"Very good, Gisborne," The sheriff said, looking his lieutenant up and down. "Well, I'm very partial to the shoe idea, or perhaps even a privy. Let me find where that carpenter has gotten to. I will call you later if I need your assistance for anything, Gisbourne."

The sheriff was almost out the door when Guy halted him. "Milord, have they cleaned the room out yet?"

"Yes, yes, don't interrupt me when I'm redecorating in my head. I believe the steward has collected most of the items to be burned."

"Forgive me," Guy said quietly and stayed in place as the Sheriff left the room. As soon as he was out of sight, Guy hurried off to find the Steward in his set of rooms, a pile of women's clothes and jewelry before him. A rich scarlet colored dress leapt out to his eyes, and the memories became overwhelming. "Leave this room," he demanded of the steward.

The steward raised his chin. "Sheriff's orders, no one is allowed near here, especially you, Guy."

"You're a reasonable man, I'm sure we can come to an understanding then. All I want is that red dress there, and no one needs to know about it. What will it cost me?"

"A little small for you, isn't it, Sir Guy?" The steward sneered, although the expression quickly faded when Guy raised his hand. "It will cost you 50 gold pieces, and that nice dagger of yours."

"How about 20 silver and this dagger doesn't go in your throat. And the Sheriff doesn't learn about your skimming on the side from last month's tax haul," Guy bargained.

"You're a cruel man, Gisborne," the steward acquiesced, handing over the dress and taking the pouch of coins.

"Yes, I am," Gisborne replied softly, his thumb softly feeling the material, thoughts of a German count and a daring heist of the Sheriff's money running through his head. "She knew it too, I think."

_I'm_

_Against all odds_

_I can't stop loving you, no_

_Did you say I'm_

_Against all odds_

'_Cause I can't stop loving you, no_

_Oh_

_Oh, oh, oh, oh_

_(Why did you have to mess around?)_

_Oh, oh, oh, oh_

_(Why did you have to…)_

**Depression**: Knighton Hall had never been rebuilt, and it was here that Guy found himself, in the ruins as a broken man. He had left a note behind for the Sheriff to find, a note filled with bitter recriminations and insults, a note that would be his death. But Guy did not plan to find his end at the capable hands of the Sheriff. No, it would be her ghostly hands that would welcome him to hell.

Reverentially, Guy pulled out the tiny curved dagger that had once taken down the Night Watchman; later learned to be Marian in disguise. It had only wounded her then, it would kill now. And everything would be right. As he lifted the dagger, Guy kept his eyes open, exactly as hers had been when his sword met her flesh.

But the dagger never found his gut, as numbed fingers dropped the weapon, an arrow through his arm.

"Don't you dare, you bastard," Robin shouted hoarsely. "Don't you dare take the coward's way out on me now."

Guy looked over his shoulder to see the haggard former Lord of Locksley standing there, bow still out. "You deserve to die; in fact, I've dreamt of your death every night for the past year. But not by your own hands and not to escape the pain. My only goal now is to see you live out your life, every day reliving the regret and the pain that tears out your heart, the torture of the soul you will put yourself through."

Guy bowed his head, the tears finally coming as Robin walked up to him, bending over to pick up the dropped dagger. "And yet, she still went to marry you the next day," Robin whispered. "You almost killed her, and she went back to you. The odd thing is, she probably would have done the same thing, if she had lived. For some reason, I never understood, she cared for you."

The whine that came out of Guy's mouth went unnoticed by Robin as he dropped to his knees as well, a solitary tear making its way down a familiar path. "Not as much as she cared for you," Guy admitted. "You're the one she truly loved."

"I know that now, but I wasn't always so sure when she was around you," Robin said back softly. "I, I was jealous."

"And I of you."

"Unlike you, though, I've had friends this past year. And no one will ever replace her, but my family has helped. They've given me a reason to go on with life," Robin said faintly, staring into the distance. "And they've helped me forgive you."

"I'll never forgive. If you truly loved her, how could you? How could you let me live?"

"Because of my love for her, it's easier. She forgave us all the time for our hard-headed ways, she would forgive us now. I don't want to live with the anger and the revenge. I'm tired of the war, and now, she's not waiting for me at the end, so why continue?" Robin cried. "I'm so tired of the fight."

"So am I. I'm so sorry, she didn't deserve..."

Robin nodded, and gingerly laid a hand on Guy's shoulder. "No, she didn't. And now our love is dead. Everything is a choice, everything we do. Remember that."

Guy watched as Robin walked away, his head bowed and Guy knew deep down the two would never meet again. And he was okay with that, he would have enough reminders for the rest of his life. It was time to find a new place, a good place for a fresh start. It was time to follow her example, time to make up for his past mistakes. Time to become the man she had seen in him.

**Acceptance.**

_I'm_

_Against all odds_

_I can't stop loving you, no_

_Did you say I'm_

_Against all odds_

'_Cause I can't stop loving you, no_

_Oh_

_I'm_

_Against all odds_

_(Oh, hold on to me, hold on to me)_

_I'm_

_Against all odds_

_(Oh, hold on to me, hold on to me)_

_I'm_

_Against all odds_

_(Oh, hold on to me, hold on to me)_


End file.
